Chaotic Peace
by Acid Pixie Dust
Summary: "She was an angel craving chaos, he was a demon seeking peace." Jace tries to help Clary escape the boring yet abusive life she's stuck in after he finds out she's the daughter of the man he was sent to kill. Will she choose to take him up on his offer or will she leave things alone? One-Shot for now. TBC
1. Chapter 1

**Hole-Lee-Crap. I just finished what might be the most intense year of my life and while I did that all I could think of was how much I missed writing. I made it through high school with 11 friends I happily call family and as a celebratory story I want to share with you guys what - amazingly- ended up being my final for English. We got to write a story, about anything we wanted and I shit-you-not, I turned in this story of Clary and Jace.**

 **Since I no longer have anything turning my hair a lovely shade of grey, I'll be posting stuff soon.**

 **I would love to know what you guys think of this story because I'm really considering extending it (along with Shattered, so don't fret!) and I always love your guys' opinions. Please review this time, even if you don't like it, don't usually comment, or don't really care about it, because I would still appreciate the input.**

 **Just as a little insider to my inspiration for writing this, I saw a post about something that really caught my eye, and it went, "She was an angel craving chaos; he was a demon seeking peace." So while you're reading this just imagine that quote :)**

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"It's up to you," he whispered in her ear. "The choice is yours now, you either do it… or you don't. I won't say anything to influence you and I won't go against my word if you choose to walk out. But you need to pick now."

She sat at the edge of her balcony, no longer paying attention to the dried blood on her leg. The towel she had there was now dried up and brown with the exception of a few new red spots.

Her neck hurt, her arms hurt, her legs hurt and her feet hurt but the pain wasn't something she hadn't encountered before. It was only the next day she was worried about when the bruises in shapes of fingerprints would start showing up. People would ask questions and she would have to cover her ass yet again. It's not that making up a story wouldn't be easy; it's the lying to everyone that she hated. How was she supposed to become a better person when things that set the worst example surrounded her?

The girl put her head down to take a minute of rest before heading back in. She wanted to talk to the stranger that lived above her but there was a possibility that he wouldn't be here today.

She closed her eyes to wait and take in the smells of early spring. The most relaxing scent was during the moments right after it rained when you could feel the leftover fog in the air and smell the wet dirt and grass. A few more seconds passed by, bird's songs danced around the alleyway and the crickets bounced through the shadows of dumpsters.

Usually the man above would be out here before she appeared but today he was nowhere to be found. The past few week had been mysterious and eventful, she's never seen the guys face or even how tall he was, what he wore, but she did know that she was in love with his voice.

Whenever something bad happened inside he had always been there to comfort her, to offer support or distract her when she needed it. Every once in awhile he would give her a new canvas for her paintings because he knew she couldn't afford them on her own. The only bad thing about getting presents and advice from a stranger is not knowing who he is. He would never let her look up when he was up there and he said he wasn't able to tell her his name. One day all she wanted to know was what color his eyes were but even that had to be a mystery with him.

The sound of metal hitting metal rang and a smile pulled at her lips, she knew he had come outside to talk because only he could be so quiet yet so obvious. "Hey, Stranger."

A shadow covered her figure, causing her to shiver. "How bad was it this time?"

Seconds jumped off the roof before she replied. "I kicked some major butt. You should've seen me, I was so good directors should hire me as their client's stunt doubles"

"You don't have to lie to me, Clarissa." But didn't she? When she still had no idea who he was?

She answered anyway, "Well then, on a scale of sunsets to mosquitos? Most definitely a torture chamber." The shadow moved slightly almost as if it grew around her. A shallow, tense sigh escaped from his lips.

"I can help you."

"So you've said." _Time and time again_ , she thought, _you've offered to help yet I have no idea why or how. To many questions go unanswered but I'm the idiot for still listening to you._

"Clary." A pause the whole world felt. "You don't have to stay here."

Clary rang her hands together in a nervous tic. His words sent anxiety up her arms but she wanted so bad to say yes. Please, help me. "He's my father."

Another sigh, "He's your abuser."

She shook her head slightly and looked down at the cement below her. She studied the cracks for a few minutes with her red curls flowering around her until she released the tension in her shoulders and put her hands on her thighs.

"How am I supposed to trust you? I have no idea what you look like or what 'I can help you' even means. Are you going to kidnap me? Are you going to burn the building down when my father is in a drunken slumber and hope that he isn't found when the help gets here? Are you going to pay me enough money to help me run away? What?"

"You don't want to know."

"Then you have my answer." Clary got up, flung the towel over the ledge and walked inside, trying as hard as she could to not look up and see who the mystery man above her was.

The next morning Clary woke up and reached to the right for her cup of water. She patted around slowly as to avoid spilling it all over the carpet. When her index finger hit the cold glass she grabbed it and brought it to her lips almost in slow motion.

The chill of the water felt good going down her throat but swallowing to get it there only reminded her of what happened the night before. Stranger's words echoed in her head and although she wanted so badly to listen to him and let him help, there was no way she could trust someone she knew nothing about.

Clary took one more sip of water and dragged herself out of bed. The morning light assaulted her eyes but she pushed past the irritation and walked out to the living room. Her dad sat poised on the sofa, staring at nothing but the blank television screen. When she walked around to the front of him she saw his eyes were shut and the beer in his hand threatened to fall out of its grip.

"Papa?" She whispered, afraid to wake him but also afraid to startle him. "Papa."

Clary took a step toward him and laid a gentle hand over his own. With her other hand she grabbed the glass bottle and set it on the beat up brown coffee table.

With a shake of his arm Clary raised her voice. "Papa, let's get you to bed." She pulled his arm around her shoulder and lifted him to his feet. Every inch of her prosted the weight of the six foot three man but she knew it had to be done.

His eyes finally opened enough for him to see where he was going but his daughter was still doing all the work. "Put me down." He slurred.

She ignored him and continued to the bedroom but he wasn't giving up. "Put me down you worthless child. I want to be left alone."

"You can be left alone in your room, where you can sleep." Valentine violently rocked to the side causing her to stumble and grab the edge of the door for stability.

"You're worthless. You're stupid and you're stubborn. Put me down before I make you regret laying a hand on me." _I always regret it,_ she thought.

Regardless, she threw him on the floor mattress and put her hand on her hips to gather oxygen. Valentine rolled around pointlessly and grabbed his blanket in a way a five year old might. It would've been comical if she hadn't known it was only because he was too wasted to actually cover himself.

"You should be with your mother," Was the last thing he murmured before drifting off to sleep. Clary didn't move and she didn't respond but she also didn't stop the tears from falling down her cheek. How could he say something like that? Should she be scared that he'll make it happen?

Clary heard the glass door open behind her. That was the first time the stranger had ever stepped foot in her house but she wasn't nervous. She wanted the company, she wanted someone to stand there while she debated what to do with her life.

"I'm not the worthless one" She whispered to herself. "I'm not the worthless one at all."

"Clary?" Silent footsteps made their way towards her, he was on her level yet she still refused to turn around.

"Why are you here?" Clary took a deep breath and rubbed her palms over her cheeks to get rid of the tears. What horrible timing he could have. It was one thing to cry in front of him when he can't see you but it was another when he was right there to witness her swollen bloodshot eyes.

"Tell me what happened." An arm snaked around her waist, soft lips touched her bare arms where her shirt happened to slip down. "The night she died, tell me what happened."

Clary leaned her head to the side and let her head drown in his words. There was something so hypnotizing about him, even when it came to the most innocent things he said.

"They got in an argument, one worse than any of the others before them." Stranger's fingers slid down her arm to her wrist where he grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth. A content sigh escaped her lips when he began to kiss each finger one by one causing her to forget any doubts she had about him..

"She threatened to leave him," She said. "She wanted to get away from him and his abuse, find a better home and a more loving man. She said all of it to his face, no fear and no remorse." Clary let out a humorless laugh. "I used to think what she was saying was the bravest thing I've ever heard and that my mother must have been wonder woman for standing up to someone so much bigger than her and telling him he was shit… But she wasn't."

More kissing trailed up her arm and to the other side of her neck. "She was stupid for coming here with him thinking that he'd be better than the last was stupid for thinking she could beat someone twice her size and triple her build. My mother was a frail person, she worked more than she ate or slept but she did it so she could provide.

"One night when she was closing after a late shift at the coffee shop she ran into the bookstore owner. 'He was lovingly blunt,' she said. 'He told me how horrible I looked for being the beautiful woman that I am…' That was the happiest I've seen her since we moved to this crappy apartment but I knew that if my father found out she was seeing someone else he would flip out. You don't test someone who's known for being a drunk drug addict, but she had different plans."

"One night she came in my room to help me pack my bags, all she told me to pack was what I needed most and the rest we could replace. After I had finished she went to her own room to get her bag but my father was already awake and standing in the doorway… You should have seen his face, he was _livid_." A shiver went down Clary's spine as more tears started to form. "He started yelling at her, screaming endlessly about how ungrateful she was to have him in her life…"

Clary paused for a minute to relish the feeling of Stranger's touch. She gathered the energy to finish the story because like it or not, talking about that night helped tremendously. "She knew it wouldn't end well, she must have already expected that if she happened to get caught he would hurt her until she couldn't move, so the best thing she thought to do was try and run.

"She threw a glass of alcohol in his face before heading towards the door. She took too long with the lock so by the time she had opened it he was already by her side, throwing her around like a rag doll." The tears fell viciously down her cheek when she said her next words.

"I can still… hear her screams… I can still hear her telling me to hide or run… But I couldn't move I was too paralyzed to help or do what she told me. So I had to stand and watch as she was dragged outside by her hair and choked over the railing. Valentine was whispering things I couldn't hear to her, dragging it out until the last second when he pushed her over. Then he turned to me with a glare before walking away."

"So what now? What do you want to do?" Stranger's breath danced across her neck.

 _I want you to help me,_ is what she thought but she said something different out loud. "I don't know what I want." It instantly felt wrong to say but she knew she shouldn't give in just yet.

"My offer still stands," He whispered. "But we're running out of time. If you want my help you have to tell me now so I can get started on what we need to do. But if you want to stay, I can't guarantee that someone nicer than me will come to finish the job."

 _What?_ "What job?" Clary tried to jerk out of his grip and turn towards him but his arm only tightened around her.

"I haven't been living here for pleasure, Clarissa. I was sent here to get money from your dad or kill him. When I found out you were living here with him I knew I needed to do something with you. I think it's safe to say that you won't say anything if I need to carry out the job and leave you here, considering you haven't told anyone about me."

Clary's body began to shake from the nerves. With his arm around her waist she suddenly wasn't so sure about the man standing behind her.

"Who are you?" The silence between them filled the entire apartment, the only sound interrupting it was the quake of her heart beat

"I'm a killer of sorts, except I don't do it for pleasure, I do it for money." The hand gripping her spun her around and she was shocked silent at the sight of him.

His hair was the color of honey that hung in ringlets over his forehead making his tan skin seem unnatural. His eyes were a beastly shade of gold that made her fingers itch for pencils to capture the color. She gave him a once over. He was seemingly perfect. He was tall, lean, tattooed yet sophisticated in his all black outfit. The black leather seemed to bring out the contrasting colors her naturally carried and it only irritated her that he could look so good and dare to touch her frail body. The left side of his lips pulled up in a smirk of amusement. When she glanced at it she found the one thing that set his perfect features off.

He had a chip in his left incisor that could only have been caused by the fights he probably gets into.

She wanted to stare for a little longer but he cut her short. "We have things to do, Clary, you can stare later if you must."

Then she remembered what she'd always wanted to ask. "What's your name?"

"Jace." He said.

"So… you want to help me by taking me away after you kill my father?"

She turned around to look at her dad. "Not necessarily, no." He stopped for too long to make her feel comfortable. "You could kill him yourself. In fact, it would be easier to prove you're trustworthy if you did because if I leave with you then you'll have to live with me, and I can't hide you from the people I work for."

Every muscle in her body froze at the thought of killing someone. She had always wished her father was dead but she never in a million years would've expected to be able to kill him herself. All the possibilities that could happen if she were alone, no longer needing to worry about bruises or lies."

"What if I say no? Will I have to stay behind?" Her back pressed against Jace's front almost for a type of shelter.

"No, it's up to you," He whispered in her ear. "The choice is yours now, you can either do it… or you don't. I won't say anything to influence you and I won't go against my word if you choose to walk out. But you need to pick now. Come tomorrow I need to leave and collect my pay check, but I _will_ take you with me."

A nervous laugh escaped her. "How will I kill him? Do I have options? Gun, knife, or poison?

"No," he chuckled, "Not really." She turned to face him with her brows drawn together.

"I only have a knife. It's more.. Personal." Clary gulped audibly and pivoted back around. If she did this she would be free, there would be no more lying, no more hiding.

"Will I get caught?"

"No, we have people for that. But like I said. It's up to you."

"I need time." She mumbled, "I can't choose just yet."

Jace sighed and backed away from her. "I've already said, I only have until-"

"Tomorrow, I know. But I can't just look at his sleeping form and instantly be okay with killing him." _I need time to process that if I kill him I become him._

"Fine. I'll be back tomorrow. I'll leave something in your room for if you decide sooner." With a kiss to her cheek he backed away and she didn't bother to turn around and watch. "I'm leaving at 7:30 at night. I'll stop by before then either for you, or your father too."

And just like that the weight of her options made themselves apparent on her shoulders.

Clary stood in the kitchen chopping pieces of bread for the bread pudding her father craved. She was using a butter knife but she could still feel the steel of the blade Jace gave her pressed against her back.

She played out every possible scenario in her head but none of them seemed right. She wished that Jace would show up and give her some advice considering she's never killed anyone before in her life. First times for everything were always nerve racking.

Behind her, her dad sat on the ripped leather sofa with his fifth bottle of beer in hand and his fist raised in the air every time one of his star hockey players missed a shot. His booming voice always made her cringe but today she admired it, she admired the fact that the same voice yelling at the television right now and the same voice that used to show up in her nightmares would finally be gone after tonight.

Clary whisked up the rest of the ingredients into the pudding and set the pan in the microwave. The downside of being poor is that you can't fix everything when it breaks.

Without realizing she was lost in her thoughts, her father came up behind her and tugged her out of the way by her ponytail.

"Move, twit. Don't just stand there like an idiot." He shoved past her to throw the bottle in the trash under the sink. He then yanked the fridge door open and held out his hand in a silent demand for the bottle opener.

She stood there staring, not wanting to do what he told her to anymore. She wanted to push his buttons and get the best out of this moment. The back of his hand made contact with her cheek bone, causing a trickle of blood to flow down her cheek. But still, she did not budge. She just stood there and blocked out his words as he made his way back to the sofa.

Her blood boiled and her eyesight turned red. She didn't want to wait any longer, it was now or never.

Clary turned and stomped her way to stand in front of her dad and blocked his view of the television. He tried to push her away but she went right back to where she was standing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His hand went up to point to the game. "Get out of my way. I don't have the energy to lock you in your room today."

They stood there for a good 45 seconds before she said anything. But when she did those three simple words made her feel a lot better. "I hate you."

It came out nothing but a hoarse whisper. It was the most satisfying thing she has ever said to him. "I hate you so much, that I wish you were dead."

The tug of his lips that formed his smile was the only thing that shocked her, "You and me both. Then I wouldn't have to deal with you and paying for this shit hole called a home."

"You think you're so amazing and that mom deserved someone like you as a husband, but if I had a choice, I would risk even being born if mom could've had another husband, that way she could have her happy ending and I wouldn't be stuck here with a piece of shit like you." She took one empowering step closer to him, his scowl deepening when she leaned over and growled in his face. "I should've pushed you over the edge of that balcony instead of standing there like some freak who could defend her own mother. Every night I pray that you wish be hit by a car, or poisoned by that disgusting alcohol you drink. But I know now that I can't leave the universe to do what I need to do myself."

Before he could open his mouth to speak she drew the knife out from her back and put the cold tip to his neck. His face turned ash white and just before she pushed the knife threw she whispered, "See you in Hell."

The feeling of the knife sliding through his skin was oddly satisfying, and she smiled when she saw the red blade come out the other side. It only took a minute for his eyes to go blank and his body to go limp. When she was sure he was dead she stepped back and admired her work.

From behind her she could hear Jace come through the glass door. She turned to his six foot figure with the same smile on her face. "You're right. Using a knife is much more personal."

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 **Don't forget to review my lovelies!**

 **As always...**

 **~A.P.D.**


	2. Questions to Continue

Hey guys! So I've officially decided to continue this story but I wanted to know a couple things before I continue.

1\. Would you like me to continue from where I started or restart differently like I'm going to do with shattered?

2\. On a scale of baby snails to speed demons how fast would you like Clary and Jace's relationship to go?

3\. Would you like me to continue the story on this file-story-site thing or create a new one to start off fresh?

Also, I think just for now I'll be updating as regularly as possible but there won't be any definite schedules.

That's it for now!

~A.P.D.


	3. Chapter 2

_**So I wanted to finish this chapter as fast as I can and in order to do that I needed to make food for motivation (because food motivates everyone) and me being the dummy I am... put the tip of my middle finger right on the burner. Stupid.**_

 ** _Typing this was a complete bitch._**

 ** _Excuse my Romanian.._**

 ** _It's all for you! Enjoy._**

 ** _Side note: About a week after I typed that I fell off a playground while playing groundies and fractured my shoulder blade. I'm 18. You should've seen the looks the doctors were giving me when I went to the emergency room and told them what happened._**

 ** _To give you an idea of how rare and painful that is apparently only about 1% of people break this bone and it's mostly assosiated with car accidents because of the force it takes. Captain Hook would have an easier time typing this than I am right now and he most definitely would be a hell of a lot sexier doing it too. ;)_**

 ** _One more side note: There's no regrets coming from me. I still didn't get tagged!_**

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Jace sat in the kitchen typing away to his boss about his absence while Clary sat silently across from him eating eggs and oatmeal. She hadn't said anything to him for the past two days and it was driving him nuts. Usually he would have a girl or two over to keep him company but now that Clary was here he didn't want to make her feel awkward, therefore she was now his source for entertainment. His _silent_ source for entertainment.

Every few words he would glance up and see if she had decided to even look up from her bowl but that was a huge nope. She simply sat there, head down, spoon steady. After a few seconds more of irritation he sighed and sat back, arms folded across his chest. Her spoon stilled halfway to her mouth almost as is his glare had shocked her still. At least she noticed his glare at all.

"Are you going to stay mute for the rest of your life?" Four seconds ticked by on the clock, he could even here the distinct sound of brass as it hit the gears.

Clary slowly shook her head and lifted the spoon at half the speed she started with. Her jaw moved a few times before she slid the bowl away and lifted her head. When her green eyes connected with his he saw just how confused and conflicted she was and it worried him. Yes he had gone over what happened a million times over but what was done couldn't be changed. Most of him regretted giving her the idea of killing her father but the other small agency-trained part needed her to do it. He needed her to have a taste of what her life could be like and what his life already was. But seeing that storm building behind her green eyes was concerning. There was a dam beginning to flood and he wasn't sure if he was ready to carry that on his shoulders.

Jace saw a twitch at the corners of Clary's mouth right before her lips set into a frown. He didn't tear his gaze away but the panic started to bubble inside of him. If this girl was about to cry in front of him he would need to channel his inner sensitivity and fast. The more water that built in her eyes the more his heart started to race.

"I'm a horrible person." She whispered in sync with her tears. _I should call my sister for this_ , Jace thought. _This is not a category I excel in._ "I'm just like my father."

Those five words pulled at Jace's memories. They were the words anyone from a bad background hated to say, including him.

"You're not like your father Clary. Valentine was a horrible person, you are not." His fingers clicked against the table as he thought of what to say. Part of him wanted to go over to her and comfort her but the other part him wasn't so sure she'd be okay with that. "Your father killed your mother because he didn't want her leaving him. He did vile things to you and other people simply because he thought he could. You helped end it all by stopping him…" Jace could see Clary struggling to control her tears the more he went on so he reached across the table and entwined his fingers with hers. Soft lashes brushed against her cheeks as her eyelids shut. "You did something good in a household surrounded by bad, Clarissa. Don't ever doubt that."

Her eyes were warm when they opened again but still held a tinge of sadness. Jace felt the guilt creeping up his spine like it had days before and he knew something would have to be done with this girl or he would end up destroying her with his lifestyle.

* * *

"Where have you been Jonathan?" The head figure of the agency sat in a shadow of his office like he was starring in some kind of horror film, only his silhouette was visible and the light around his head reflected white telling him that the person had aged salt colored hair.

"I have been dealing with File 19, as you ordered me to." Jace thought of Clary and how he wasn't quite sure if exposing her would be the best thing to do yet.

"I gave you three weeks. Is the problem dealt with?"

Jace nodded curtly. "Yes, sir." The director asked if there was any follow up on Valentine done by the citizens to which Jace responded with a shake of his head. "No, sir. They believe that he either disappeared from drug and gang relations or moved out and left his things behind. Which they did not seem to think was uncommon. I had my team clean up the inside of the apartment to where it was the everyday mess but no blood or evidence covered the scene."

The silhouette's shoulders shook and a low humored gurgle come from it. "Good. I expect as much from you."

A few minutes ran by, the tension in the air thickened as Jace stood there not knowing what to do. He hadn't been dismissed yet but there were no more questions to answer regarding Valentine. At least… there were no more questions that Jace knew the director was aware of. A clicking sound came from in front of him, almost as if there was a pen being bounced on the desk. Jace cleared his throat and spoke up before his nerves got the best of him and he confessed about the girl he was hiding in his apartment.

"Sir, may I be dismissed or is there another matter you need to speak to me about?" Nothing followed for a while but eventually the man spoke up and gave Jace allowance to leave. With one more nod Jace turned on his heels and headed back towards the steel door that separated this room and the hallway to the lobby. Before Jace could fully turn the knob and walk out, the director cleared his throat, his words warm but stern.

"I trust that you know what you're doing Herondale. The girl you are keeping information about can stay with you but not for long. I expect you to come back on your own terms and notify me on what you're doing with her. She will either join the agency or will have to go through memory therapy to forget what she has learned." When he paused Jace pulled the door open and slowly shut it behind him. The director didn't like to be kept waiting for very long so he knew the most he had was a week maybe two tops if he wanted to push it. After that he would either have to destroy Clary or say good bye to her forever.

* * *

 _ **So I know this is short, I'm sorry! I've already started the next chapter and it will be longer but I just wanted to give at least a little something to pass the time by.**_

 _ **Please please review. I love reading what you guys have to say and it's been helping pass the time by. Leave me three page reviews, tell me about your life, I definitely don't mind. Even if you want to tell me a funny story about when you broke a bone of yours go ahead. :) Just let me know what you think of this chapter and try to ignore its length.**_

 _ **~A.P.D.**_


	4. Chapter 3

It had been three days since the meeting with his boss and yet nothing other than a new assignment seemed to scurry threw Jace's email. A throb had started to spread in the back of his head cause by exhaustion and aggravation. Exhaustion because Clary seemed to be a little too alright with what she did and aggravation because ever since Jace let his sister know he was staying with someone, and that someone was a woman, she had been up his ass about coming over to meet her.

Up until the moment he opened the file his boss sent him he thought it was a horrible idea, but now that he needed someone on his new assignment he thought about just using her to his advantage.

The email only had a location attached to it but the mailed folder showed Jace the more broken down version of what he was supposed to do. The first thing Jace had been trained to look for was the letter his boss put in which he pulled free from the paperclip. He put on his desk lamp and leaned back, putting one leg over the other.

 _Agent Herondale,_

 _The assignment today is not quite as simple as most and will need to be a speedy act. In the envelope you will see a picture of Jon Markova, who was once a friend and college. Markova has stolen information from the Agency that we believe he is planning on using to destroy us. This information is stored on a small gold disk (see picture B) that we have been informed is hidden inside a safe at the New York dance hall. This Friday, there will be a masquerade ball in honor of a symphony conductor who has recently passed. In honor of his death he put in his will that he would like to have a dance celebrating life rather than a funeral mourning death. You will pose as one of his newest students with the name Matthew Lightwood._

 _Half way through the event there will be a charity donation and award give aways, during this time you will make your way to the office numbered 1435 (see map A) in less than fifteen minutes time. If you are gone too long a security team will most likely be sent to look for you, they will be watching everyone's actions throughout the night thanks to a recent break in._

 _This being said, you will take your new friend and when you leave to retrieve the disk she will accompany you as a safety precaution of getting caught. I'm sure, Agent Herondale, that you know how to use a woman for a distraction._

 _It is up to you to choose what to wear and whether or not you will give the girl a new name but I expect to have the disk at the drop of spot by midnight. (See map B)._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Director of Field 5_

Jace rolled his eyes before picking up the crisp white sheets of paper. " _I'm sure, Director, that you know I can still kill you in two seconds flat."_ He mocked. Nothing was special about this other than the fact that a non-agent was being sent with him. Jace was certain that there was an alternative motive to why but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

The weariness made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up but an order was an order. The only reason you would ever question the Director is if you wanted to end up dead.

Jace twined his fingers together and thought of a new name for Clary because there was no way he was going to drag her on a mission and have her identity be vulnerable, and he would also make sure to make this mission as clean as possible so she wouldn't have to witness anything like the events with her father.

Innocence was hard to keep but always a virtue, and he wasn't going to let that escape from her.

* * *

Clary sat on the cement floors of the apartment right next to the window. Her sketch book was in her hand but the pencil had frozen on one spot. She couldn't get the shading of the city quite right. On a typical day, something like this would be a piece of cake for her... but on a day like this she could capture the lighted areas where the rain just passed and the rainbows were just now starting to peak their way through the clouds and on top of the business buildings.

All she could capture was the dark sky and fresh, heavy rain that seemed to drown away any person who happened to be walking down the street. The melody she could only assume came from a market down below was stuffed instead with a cotton sort of haze. Nothing was right anymore and she needed to fix that.

Soft steps came from the hallway behind her and pulled her from her reverie. Clary slowly turned her head in Jace's direction only to immediately take note of the lines etched into his brows. Subtle enough that anyone not paying close attention would easily pass off.

His lips tugged up on one side when their eyes met, the burn in her cheeks became hard to ignore every time he looked at her.

His mouth started moving but all she could focus on was the one freckle that took residency on the hill of his top lip. It was on the left side, small, dull, but everything in her thought about what it would be like to kiss it, to just see what would happen if-

"Clarissa."

Her eyes snapped up, barely able to contain the embarrassment. "Yes?"

"Did you hear anything I just said?" An eyebrow arched and his mouth mimicked the downward curve of a grimace.

"I'm sure I heard everything very clearly," She said. "It's just a matter of if I paid attention and processed it." With a pivot of her body Clary face the outdoors again and imagine the fresh smell of wet grass.

She could hear footsteps coming closer to her but couldn't be bothered to turn around and look.

"Clarissa my sister is coming over to meet you. But before she gets here I need to discuss some things with you." Jace reached to grab her shoulder but something in him told him that might not be a good idea. "You already know what I do for a living, that hasn't been a secret since the incident with your dad. But now my boss needs me to do something else and I need you to be with me when I do it."

Clary whispered a hoarse, "Why?"

"I'm not sure, usually if I need a partner I would bring someone who was trained but this time is different. All I'll need you to do is go with me to a ball. A masquerade to be specific. My sister is coming so she can help you pick out something to wear, she might also be bringing masks to choose from."

Clary flashed back to being in her room. Her mother was sitting next to her with a piece of paper in her hand similar to the one her daughter held. She was young and giggling, still new to painting she asked her mom if she could help her create a picture of her own ball. One with masked women and mysterious men. She dreamed about going to something like that ever since her mother took her to the live Phantom of the Opera.

"It's called a masquerade Clare Bear." Her mother sang. "They don't exist much anymore. If you wanted to go to something like this you'd have to organize it yourself. Which will be easy for you since you'll grow up to be smart and have a lot of money."

Clary always wondered how she could achieve such high standards. She was pretty sure even her mother hadn't been able to finish High School.

That night they finished the painting and hung it on the wall. Clary was supposedly the center of the painting, her mom had even given her a gown to make her stand out with her red hair.

"When is the ball?" She finally asked.

"Three days from now. Enough time to get everything ready."

"Can I ask you something Jace?" Clary turned around without looking up. "Would it be too much to ask if I could have a dress made? My… my mom and I used to dream about going to something like this. She painted me at a ball like this and gave me a dress I would like to wear when we go."

Jace nodded. "Of course. I'll have Izzy sew whatever you need. Just tell her everything when she gets here."

Clary turned around without another word, even though she wanted to say thank you, that she appreciated everything that had been done, she was still stuck on the thing that had dug its claws into her mind.

The fact that Clary actually enjoyed killing her father.

* * *

"Where is she?" Isabelle whispered.

"Asleep, in her room. She falls asleep constantly but never for very long, most of the time I hear her screaming before she wakes up." Jace looked behind him to the hallway that would lead to the girl. The redheaded girl he found so fragile yet so strong.

"Is that _normal_? Shouldn't you find some way to comfort her?" Isabelle took a long sip a tea as Jace groaned.

"No, it's not _normal_ Izzy. None of this is normal." He ran one clammy hand through his hair and let the curls fall back to his face. "Don't you think I've tried to comfort her? Some nights I go in there to sit while she sleeps, maybe to make her feel calmer but she just starts thrashing… When she wakes up again she pushes me away out of embarrassment. So far the only thing I've found keeping her asleep the longest is when I play music… I've been getting less sleep than she has." _All for a good cause hopefully._

Isabelle took another sip of her drink all while scanning Jace over the rim of her mug.

"You like her don't you?" Jace's eye roll did nothing to intimidate her but simply made her push the subject more. "Does she know?"

"She knows that my feelings toward her are platonic." The memory of his lips on her skin came rushing back. Flooding him like he was living under water, a steal sheet of ice was above him, threatening to keep him there to drown him in his own thoughts. "That's all there is to it."

" _Well,_ " Isabelle cleared her throat, "I think it's about ten minute past when we should've woken sleeping beauty up, don't you?" With that she slammed her drink down on the coaster and stood up, but before she could even twitch her foot in the right direction Jace blocked her way.

"I'll get it." He said, shoulders stiff, voice deep, "You tend to scare people when you wake them."

Without another word Jace stomped off and Isabelle sat back down laughing to herself. "Platonic my ass."

* * *

 ** _So the last section is pretty short, yes, I know. But I think I'm starting to like writing shorter paragraphs just because chopping things up is fun and giving people more to look forward to is also fun._**

 ** _In the next few chapters you'll be able to see how I'll be beginning to put a twist on a few things, I can't tell you what. I just have to hope you like it. But for now please enjoy this chapter and don't forget!..._**

 ** _Please Review! :)_**

 ** _~A.P.D._**


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